The Meaning of Because
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: When the team finished the stakeout, the League got no further word from them, so they sent Batman down to check on their beloved ex-sidekicks. Nothing could've prepared him for what he saw when he got there. KF/Rob and many other pairings


**I was with Xavier, Ozzy, Collin and Abby on the bleachers by the baseball park because we were all bored and we were talking to waste time. Collin was talking about this movie and we didn't get one part of it, so he related the location to the one in Transformers 3. Xavier was like, "I wasn't paying attention. I was watching the hot British chick." I didn't mean to, but I spoke up without thinking, "She's hot I guess, but nothing compared to Megan Fox in the second movie… on that motorcycle all sexy-like… she could ride me all night…" The boys all looked at me with these wide eyes before they started laughing. Abby was lying with her head in her hands, but she raised her head and grinned, "Yeah, she's bi…" Collin patted my back and Ozzy kind of mumbled, "… I didn't expect to hear that from you…" Then we went on to discuss how I'm going to be a whore for Halloween. Ha. I love my friends. **

**But anyway, I'm wasting space so this fic looks bigger than it would without these. I'm going to be a schoolgirl whore, apparently, with the little blue skirt, the top and the tie. Collin told me, "I'll pay for half of the costume if I can see you in it." It made my day because for a second, I actually felt pretty. But now. I must hardcore exercise between fics. I must be a beautiful whore! …I'm probably the only woman alive who doesn't mind being called a whore. It's a compliment! A whore is the perfect woman, because unlike the rest of us, whores leave after you're done with them and don't hover. Like Chef from South Park said out of context, "A whore is a woman you pay to leave."**

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There are some people who just prefer life when it's at its loudest. They aren't happy until their ears are ringing from the intensity of the sound in the air around them, the decibels vibrating off their skin like a well-aimed squirt of a water gun, the droplets spraying wildly off of soft skin in a clear tinted mini wave that litters the air in its after shocks. They like having other bodies pressed around their own, the heat of another keeping their own scantily clothed body coated in heat like an invisible blanket. They'd rather feel the beat surging up from the ground as they grind their hips through the air, their faces a blur amidst the crowd in the club.

Then there are those who prefer solitude, on a confined sort of level where they'd proudly rather be in a concrete stall with a book and a flashlight to occupy the silence. They love the air at its finest hours when nothing more than a breath breaks it, loving the noises that are casual and soft on their ears, bringing the faintest of a smile to their lips. The worlds presented to them in faerietales sound a lot better than the world around them, the happiness and love written betwixt the words passing across their fields of vision seemingly impossible in real life, making them all that more desirable.

And then there's Batman.

The Dark Knight is more commonly known as a lover of the silences, the sounds of his arrival and departure being the exact same in sounding no louder than a purposeful breath when intended. He was a silent assailant of the night, his skin the clear air against the sunless night sky, the faint trail of the moon the only thing relatively able to pick him out from a part of one of the buildings in that dark alley you're hiding in. He could speak volumes louder than megaphone levels without ever needing to open his lips, his silence spent protecting the world instead of dancing to it.

Batman was a man of many things, one of them being the urge to follow a certain persona for when his name changed to the crowds, strictly obeying the traits tagged along to his outfit for the day. Change itself wasn't very high on his list of favorite things, although he wasn't objected to it when it came to situations like this.

Situations like when he was going up a staircase to a room of unresponsive teens who were supposed to be staking out a back alley in a crowded part of a southern country where a large drug trafficking system is supposed to go on, seeing that there was no need for them to be wasting their time bored in the states. They hadn't answered their com. links in an hour, causing worry amongst those of League rank, giving Batman reason to go check in on them to tell them that their mission was over and that they could come home to their loving member and families who waited anxiously.

The leaders had had busted, spotted on a bust by some weak sounding heroes several hours ago, calling in the nearest police forces to the scene with the wimpy metallic handcuffs and the squad cars to haul them away. It was time for the soldiers to return home and retire their camouflage for jeans and t-shirts. The explosions should be replaced with relieved laughter, smiles and peacefulness, the bruises traded in for stomach aches caused from eating too much or headaches from the volume of the TV as you cheer for the people on the screen.

The camouflage was still on though, as far as he was concerned, so he jogged briskly up the concrete with echous results, kind of like a doorbell as the wooden door that barred him from the teens came into view. He watched it through narrowed slits, wondering why his sidekick hadn't ripped the door open with a weapon in hand and a scowl hard on his lips. Immediately, his mind began to think up worst case scenarios, the kinds nightmares were made up of, but he shook them of with every step. There were hopefully some heroes behind that door, ones that could handle themselves alone. Hopefully.

Batman feared nothing. His heart would never skip a weak beat at the thought of his sidekick being injured… of course not… it was literally impossible for his heart to skip a beat without him dropping to the floor soon after and dying of the heart palpitation. His stomach wasn't churning with anxious butterflies, mostly because no creature could live inside a stomach and withstand the pressured crushing and the digestive acids inside of the organ. His hands did tremble, but only from how tight of fists they were locked into, a delusion he had convinced himself of as the hundred stair distance closed down to ten.

Once he found himself cowl-to-wood, he forced his fingers flat and raised the fidgeting hand to the knob, turning his body so his shoulder took the place of his face, digging his skeleton key forcefully into the lock. Before the click could sound, he turned the knob and thrust the door open, stepping into the room fast. The door itself crashed into the wall, causing not a stir in the occupied room, instead stirring up a look of relieved surprise at what he found awaiting him. The heroes were unconscious, all six of them, alive without an ounce of blood to their smiling forms, content with their positions.

The Dark Knight tried his hardest to hide a smile, only revealing a ghost as he stepped further into the room, quietly easing the door closed behind him. He winced at the dent in the wall, easily overcoming it as he shamefully shook his head, turning his head back to the sleeping beauties that were stretched across the room. He had never seen them this… united… this… happy. They just looked peaceful and pleased with life, not a worry to their grim little worlds. All arguments and fights were abandoned up in the air around them, nothing but affection and love binding them together happily.

The room was made up of a bunch of countertops lining the wall nearest him, a large conference table in the center of the room, a computer desk to his left and a semi-open tinted window far to his north, consuming more than half of the wall. A telescope rested by the window, as well as some goggles and binoculars, all laid neatly as if it was where they belonged. Settled neatly amongst the scattered objects were six bodies, all in a perfect order as to guarantee that their smile was of nothing less than the truest of security.

Atop the table rested four out of the six bodies, all curled into one another as if it was the best thing in the world to do.

Kaldur was to the far edge of the table, laying on his side away from everyone else although one hand was resting atop the hip of the older ebony beside him. He was still in full costume, his outfit prim and proper down to the last detail, looking as if someone had just run him over with an iron, despite the fact that his skin lacked the burn marks. His lips were ever so barely turned up in a smile, his legs just barely bent in at the knees, the crook of his other arm serving as a temporary pillow.

Conner lay beside him, facing the opposite way with the arm closer to the ceiling wrapped around the woman that was curled into his chest. The arm with the elbow resting atop the table was also curled around her, but it rested atop the dark-colored hand on his hip. His pale nose was burrowed into bright red hair, quietly inhaling the sweet fruity smells that kept him out like anesthetics. His head rested on Kaldur's arm, the one stretched out as a pillow for the blonde, twisting his body back to rest his head.

Megan was curled into the ebony's body, her forehead resting against the black of his t-shirt, purring in her sleep. Her elbows were equal with her bellybutton, her fingers curled up around a feminine arm that encircled her stomach, five green fingers entwined with five tan ones. She was smiling widely, her other hand that wasn't holding a tan hand lightly, was firmly grasping the fabrics of the shirt beside her face with a contented sigh.

With an arm around Megan, Artemis lay on her back, her other arm dangling off the table with another pale hand entwining fingers with her. She had her head turned towards Megan, her nose about an inch from the fiery red hair. Her blonde ponytail spilt out over the edge of the table with her hand, her knees curled up into the air. Lips that were turned upwards into a happy smile moved silently as she talked in her sleep, her eyes dancing behind her eyelids.

Then, beneath the table, there were three chairs in a row. The chairs were connected in a way that the flat side of each chair was connected to the one beside it; the first chair faced south, the middle chair faced left and the last chair faced north. It was a perfect little bed, spaced out evenly due to the extended size of the chairs. On the first chair, a black jacket had been folded into a perfect square, serving as a pillow for the pair that occupied it.

Wally lay on his back, his body a flat board against the chairs, his head turned so his lips ever so lightly brushed the black hair of the boy nestled atop him. One of his arms was raised, his fingers laced lazily through Artemis', his arm trembling as the unconscious weight slowly continued to pry them apart. His other arm was laced around the small of the boy on his chest's back, holding him close, his toes touching inside his shoes. He had a soft smile to his lips, looking peaceful.

Dick was curled into the ginger's chest, one ankle on either side of Wally's calves, his fingers curled in the long-sleeved white shirt's cloth. His sunglasses were hooked to the side of the chair, his face pressed into the crook of his friend's neck. His hoodie rose up a little so Wally's arm touched the skin on his back, but he didn't seem to mind in the slightest from the size of his unconscious smile. His hair was tangled messily in his face so the only eye facing towards the sky was delicately hidden, his parted lips brushing the pale of the ginger's neck.

Everyone looked perfect, so incredibly happy, that Batman almost didn't want to disrupt any of it. He actually had planned to call in the heroes with their cars as to not ruin the peacefulness, but then he saw that his sidekick was curled up on a hero of the same gender in a dirty position. He wasn't going to be known for having a gay sidekick. Then he would probably be assumed to also be of that sexuality and he wasn't all too fond of that idea ruining his chance with the ladies. It wasn't that he was homophobic. He believed love was love, just not when it came to someone who lived in the same house as him.

Dark colored boots silently tread over to the table first, looking the kids over slowly in search of a weak point on all of them that would snap them up in a second, like the spot right beneath Dick's diaphragm. He didn't want to mess with Superboy though. Batman was fearless, but he wasn't indestructible. He still had to make public appearances on Bruce Wayne's behalf and his image meant a lot to the public, much more than it meant to himself. His mind raced, the shining gears spinning as fast as they normally did, the ideas coming a lot faster than he could think them through. Eventually, he settled on the laziest but most effective way he knew to wake them up that wouldn't get him attacked.

Batman reached into his utility belt, pulling a whistle from the bottom of one of the pouches, gently poking the red between his lips. For a moment, he had second thoughts about it all when he saw how happy they all truly looked, but then his ward decided to open his mouth even wider and speak. Normally, it took a lot for Dick to get on his guardian's nerves using just words, but this time, he succeeded in doing it with just one word; a name.

"Mmm… W…" at first, he seemed to be stirring when Batman heard, bringing a happier look to his face before it became obvious he was just dreaming, "Wally…"

The Dark Knight's eyes narrowed and he walked specifically closer to his partner, lowering himself so the whistle was barely a foot from the ebony's ear. And then he blew. It wasn't a sharp tweet though. His whistle lasted as long as he could make it go, the sharp trill snapping Conner up with an expression that could only be defined as murderous written into his features. Kaldur shakily sat up next, seeing that his arm was flung backwards to a painful point, bringing a sleepy groan to his lips.

Dick whimpered under his breath, closing his lips and scooting closer to Wally as the ringing in his ears got worse. Wally dropped Artemis' hand as she sat up, rubbing at her eyes weakly, looking around in pure confusion. The cold awoke Megan, both Artemis and Conner's touch, goose bumps forming a thin sheet over her skin. The table was alive, although not quite functioning correctly, leaving just the boys on the chair to wake up, but they didn't seem to have any intention of doing so. They obviously had regained consciousness, but they didn't seem quite ready to move from their sleepy grumbles of protest.

"Fi' more min' Ba'man…" Dick mumbled into Wally's neck, lazily scooting one hand up and running his fingers through space with the intention of finding his shades.

Wally grabbed Dick's hand and eased it to the dark-tinted glasses that hung from the rim, wrapping his fingers around them before setting his hand back to his own chest again, wrapping both arms around him to keep him there. Batman stepped closer, leaning over them with a furious Bat-Glare, the atmosphere around him dark and threatening. Neither boy made any notice to the glare, happily starting to drift back into unconsciousness.

'_The Bat Glare… that always works… They think they're stronger than me? I don't think so…' _

The whistle was back between his lips, only this time it was down by Wally's ear. He had full intention of getting these boys up and taking them back 'home' on their own accord. He closed his eyes, caught his breath and then- Batman blew. It was a sharp trill, one that stretched on just long enough to make Wally sit up with an aggravated cry, one hand to his exposed ear, still holding Dick with his other arm. The ebony delicately cradled his ears, digging his toes into the chair.

"Batman…" he whined, turning his head so Wally's shoulder was his pillow. "I… let us sleep…"

The Dark Knight didn't take orders, especially from someone of lesser rank than his own, so he straightened up without a blink and grabbed onto the back of the green hoodie in front of him. They'd find the black one soon enough, he was sure of it, as he forcefully lifted his sidekick from the protective arms that had held him. Dick squirmed angrily, twisting his body and kicking his legs away from the ginger, doing all he could to escape his mentor's grip. He was exhausted though, his mind a blurred mess behind his exposed eyes, something Batman noticed only after he had his ward dangling a few feet in the air.

"Robin," he growled lightly, glaring straight into navy blue eyes with the assumption the ebony would take the hint and cover himself.

He didn't. Instead, he kicked his legs, trying to pull his shirt back down over his exposed back and abs that were touching to the cold air while his clothes were rudely forced into a position he didn't like.

"No… _put me down_!" he dragged his voice out, throwing a mini temper-tantrum before he started swinging his sleep-depriven arms at the one holding him.

Batman sighed forcefully under his breath, practically dropping his sidekick and forcing the black-tinted glasses back over the exposed eyes. He wasn't happy, but then again, it was rare enough for him to feel that particular motion in general. Superheroes had no need for pure emotion when they should only be focusing on protecting those that need the saviors. Dick winced as the glass was suddenly in his cheek, adjusting the shades over his face and his jacket over his hips with an angry grumble, running the side of his hand over the line of his glasses indented into his cheek.

Wally groaned from exhaustion, forcing himself to his feet and popping his arms high above his head. The crisp crack made him hunch over in surprise, closing his eyes and mumbling incoherently under his breath. The crack was like an alarm clock, sliding the four teens from the table up to their feet, all rubbing their eyes free from exhaustion the best they could. Clothing was adjusted, hair was fixed, expressions were exchanged and words slowly started to fill the air, all far too quiet for Batman to try to interpret them.

"Robin, it's time to head back to Gotham," he shook his head lightly before turning his eyes to Megan. "Are you alright to pilot the bioship back to Mount Justice?"

The female ginger raised her head sleepily, offering a smile towards the Dark Knight before she looked over the five people she knew she'd have to fly back.

"I… yeah, I got this," she assured him, running her hands through her coarse red hair lightly. "Why isn't Rob-?"

Wally cut her off before she could finish her question, asking the exact same thing she was about to, only his tone was laced with pure irritance. He was obviously a little irked about being woken up, and even more so about having his warmth stolen, shivering as he slid his red half-sleeved jacket over his shoulders.

"Why isn't Robin coming with us?" he demanded to know, picking up the black jacket from under his back, handing it to his ebony.

Dick took the jacket from his friend's hands with a thankful grin, sliding it over his green hoodie before looking expectantly up at his guardian.

"Because," Batman firmly answered, setting his hand to his sidekick's shoulder and forcing them both down the stairs and out of sight.

Wally stared after them in confusion, rubbing his neck on a spot that felt particularly tender, before turning his attention to the rest of the team.

"Wha… why isn't he coming with us?" he repeated himself, cocking his head to the side, his exhaustion making him look ever so innocent.

Artemis and Megan had already turned on their heels, starting down the stairs towards the bioship, trying to remember where they had parked it, leaving Conner, Wally and Kaldur in the room alone.

"You heard Batman," Conner smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischievousness, "'Because'."

And then the ebony and blonde followed suit of the girls on the team, leaving Wally alone in the room to wonder through his exhaustion of something not even a wide awake Kid Flash could interpret. Oh, the meaning of 'because'… why dost though befuddle our minds? The meaning of being left alone in a southern country with no way of getting home crossed his mind too though, and he prioritized it much higher, snatching their gear from by the window and bolting after the rest of the team. Only 45 more years until retirement…

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**The last part was under the assumption most heroes retire at sixty. Although Wally retired early. For college. Or something like that. There was no Rocket or Zatanna because this idea is from a long while ago… so… yeah. Review?**

**-F.J. **


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